Reluctant Hero
by AmberDoodle87
Summary: Mackenzie Price is struggling to find the happiness in life as ghosts from her past haunt her. She is in desperate need to have someone save her, but what happens when that someone is Dr. Spencer Reid. A reluctant hero at best. S.Reid/OC
1. Prologue: Moments

**Author's Note: Hey everyone. Well, here it is a new story by your's truly. And would you look at that it isn't about Twilight, or MJ. Hmm. Wierd I know. But this story is on my newest obsession. Criminal Minds, and one Dr. Spencer Reid. I actually have been a fan of Criminal Minds for a few years now, and it was just recently that I started reading some of the Criminal Mind fanfics on here and the one's I have read are phenomenal. Seriously. They are under my favorite stories and authors so check those people out because they are fabulous. **

**Okay, so this story has been bouncing around in my head for a while now. So I decided what the heck, might as well put it out there, whats the worse that can happen? Well, everyone could hate it but hopefully that wont be the case. I will say now that I do not know all of the episodes. Like I said I am a newish fan who catches the Criminal Minds marathon on A&E every Saturday and watches the new episodes on CBS. I do have every intention of buying seasons though so that I can become as acquanted with the show as I can. So if I make some mistakes with timelines and such I do apologize. However I have researched this to death (and I have the 3 page outline to the story to prove it.) however, I am not perfect so I am sure that mistakes will be made. **

**Anydoodles. Oh yeah, this story does have an M rating, and this is why. This is a fanfic on a show about a group of people who psychoanalyze and profile some of the sickest in the head people to ever 'exist' so with that being said this will probably not be a fluff story. Sure there will be romance, but the romance I assure you will be somewhat over shadowed most of the time by the dark, angst that is the world inside of my creative little head. **

**So, please, I know this chapter, well it cant even really be called a chapter since its so small, doesn't have Spencer in it, and it doesn't really say much as far as where this story may possibly be going, but bare with me because in my head its great and I'm just hoping it comes out that way to everyone who stumbles upon my tale and decides to give it a read. **

**As I always say before the beginning of any chapter, please READ/ENJOY/REVIEW! **

**P.S Disclaimer: Might as well get this out of the way. I do not now, nor have I ever, or will ever own Criminal Minds or its characters. Though I wouldn't mind if someone handed me Boy Genius tomorrow. Sadly since that isn't a possibility I have to put that this story is in no way meant to inflict any sort of copyright infringment. However I do own the OC's! They are all mine, but I dont mind sharing them with all of you. Tootlelou and onto the story!**

**

* * *

**

**Prologue: Moments**

**" For every moment of triumph, for every instance of beauty, many souls must be trampled."-Hunter S. Thompson.**

**14 October 2010**

' _Help, somebody please help me,' my voice echoes in the dark alley as I blink against the rain that falls steadily around me. But there is no one. No one but me and Cynthia. Cynthia who lays in my arms, eyes wheeling around in her head as she gasps for air, a sickening gurgling sound coming from the gruesome wound on her neck. _

_I press my hand tightly to her throat trying to stem the flow of blood, but it doesn't help. It doesn't slow. It pumps hotly under my hands and I cringe as I try to stifle the vomit that looms inside of me. _

" _Help me," I scream again, louder as I look around tears and rain mixing on my face. I hear the footsteps first, and a part of me shivers with fear until a voice calls out to me. _

" _What's going on here?" a deep voice asks and I blink up looking at the man who stands before me, a look of shock and horror on his face._

" _Please, please just call for help," I plead and when he fumbles in his pocket for his phone I turn my attention fully on Cynthia. Her dark hair is wet from a strange combination of her own blood, my tears and the warm summer rain that falls incessantly over us. " Its going to be okay Cynthia, do you hear me? Its going to be okay. Helps coming. You just hold on. You have to hold on." _

_

* * *

_

Moments. Our entire lifetime is made up of moments. From conception, to birth, to death. All moments. Some forgotten, but others.

Others so permanently burned into our minds that no matter what we do they never go away.

They haunt us.

Forever.

But life isn't about getting rid of the memories that scare us, the memories that torture us, and leave us awake in the middle of the night, or cause us to fear the dark.

No.

Life is about finding our way through the darkest moments and finding the light. Its about allowing the moments that bring Peace. Happiness. Laughter and love to chase away the ugliness that is our world.

And this. This is just a story.

A story of one girls fight through the darkness, and a reluctant hero to help her find the way.

Welcome to my life.


	2. Chapter 1: Here Comes Good Bye

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! First I want to say a huge thank you to lone-staar and jamielouise for the reviews! I really appreciate any and all feedback on anything I write and post. I hope that with this chapter that both of you, as well as any future readers that they find it to be a story they enjoy. **

**Second. I know, I know. There wasn't a whole lot of Spencer in this chapter. But I promise you that will change. I just had to lay some ground work. **

**Third. I am hoping to get chapters out quicker but the truth is I have stopped forcing myself to write. If the inspiration strikes me I write, if it doesn't then I dont, because I have found that whenever I try to force it, the story reflects that I had to force it and I dont ever want that. I want people to be able to go with the ebb and flow of my story not. **

**Fourth. I do not own Criminal Minds or anyone associated with it. However I do own the OC's! No Copyright Infringement intended. **

**And finally last but not least. Please, Read/Enjoy/Review!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter One: Here Comes Good Bye**

_" Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours down upon us letting us know they are happy."-Eskimo Proverb._

**

* * *

**

_**Four Months Earlier**_

**15 June 2010**

A month ago I was graduating. Bright colors, and happy voices surrounding me. So many people around that it was hard to see two feet in front of me as I maneuvered my way through Squires Student Center Theatre at Virginia Tech, before finally finding my way into the arms of awaiting family and friends. It was so easy then. So carefree. The world was open to me. Nothing could stop me or the big plans I had for myself.

But today. Today I sit in Sunset Memorial Gardens holding onto Cynthia as she cries her heart out, usually vibrant hazel eyes red rimmed and dull.

" It, it just doesn't make sense, Nana Rosemary looked so healthy, so happy just last night," Cynthia hiccups into the mountain of Kleenex in her hands, and I fight the tears that sting in my own eyes as I gather her close to my side and run my hand as soothingly as I can up and down her back.

" Shh. Shh. Cyn," I say taking her face in my hand, " I don't know what to say to you. You would think I would know, but I don't. All I can tell you is I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

" Kenzie, th-that's what you sa-say now but," she wails harshly her voice breaking over her torrent of tears, " You, you leave next week."

I groan internally when she points out the fact that I do in fact have to pack my Saturn Vue with four years worth of university memories, and make the two day drive back home to Washington State. The place my heart has been longing to see for so long.

" Miss. Raymond," a soft soothing voice breaks through the sound of Cynthia's weeping and a sober faced older man stands in front of us, weathered hands folded in front of him, his pale skin standing out against the dark black color of his suit " I am so very sorry for your loss."

Eight simple and good intentioned words is all it takes for Cynthia's tears to start coming so much faster and louder and I realize that even if I knew what to say to comfort my best friend, it wouldn't matter.

No words can lessen the sting of death.

* * *

" She finally asleep?" a soft voice calls from behind me and I look up and over my shoulder to find Mary, Cynthia's mother, red eyed and smiling shakily.

" Yeah, she's all cried out," I murmur taking the hand she holds out to me, letting her lead me down the stairs to the pretty front room, despite the ache in my chest and the burn in my eyes telling me that exhaustion is starting to set in.

" Of all my children, Cyn was always the closest to Nana Rosemary," she says at length and I nod my head. This wasn't news to me. Rooming at university with Cynthia I learned a lot about her, just as she learned just about everything about me. And learning all there is to learn about Cynthia Raymond meant countless stories of her Nana Rosemary. The kind matriarch of the Raymond family, who not only raised six children on her own after being suddenly widowed at the age of thirty two, but the fight and struggle as she painstakingly opened and ran her bakery, Heaven Scent, so that it was one of the hottest and most welcoming places to come to in Fredericksburg, Virginia. " I tried keeping her from going down to the funeral home. But you know Cyn."

I nod my head somberly. Of course I knew that Mama Mary had tried to keep Cynthia from going down to Sunset Memorial Gardens. But she had insisted. Insisted almost violently. Screaming that it couldn't be _her_ Nana Rosemary. That this was some sick, cosmic mistake. After all Nana Rosemary had been as _'fit as a fiddle'_ just the night before at family dinner.

" I wish I knew what to say to her, Mama Mary, I do," I say dropping my head to my hands, pressing the heal of them into my eyes trying to push away the tears that threaten to take over, " Just as I wish I knew what to say to you and everyone else. You would think I would know what to say. It was seventeen months ago that Adam died, and all the things people said to me didn't make it any easier, but I'm her best friend. I'm supposed to know what to say."

" Oh Mackenzie. You don't have to say a word. You're here, that's what counts," she says taking my hand once again in hers.

" Yeah, but just until next week. Do you know how terrible I feel. That I'm going back home," I mutter shaking my head as the tears finally break through my defenses and start rolling down my cheeks. And in her quiet way, Mama Mary wraps me in her arms around me, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I finally let it all out.

* * *

**20 June 2010**

Rosemary Raymond was loved. That's the only somewhat heartwarming thought that managed to break through the grief when I walked from Nana Rosemary's funeral just last night. Loved so much that it made me almost jealous. Jealous that so many people would come to celebrate her life and who she was. And it makes me wonder if I died tomorrow would my funeral look anything like that? I shake my head, chuckling coldly.

" Here I am supposed to be packing and instead I am contemplating death to the sound of John Mayer strumming his guitar and singing about Heart Break Warfare," I mutter to myself, as I pick one of countless Virginia Tech sweaters that lays on my bed.

Death is funny isn't it? It can strike out of nowhere, violently ripping people's lives apart.

And yet it can come so quietly and peacefully. Like it did for Nana Rosemary.

I stare at the boxes in front of me, as I toss the sweater in my hands back onto my bed, and the fact that nothing is packed in a single one of them doesn't go unnoticed. Honestly the thought of leaving in two days makes me feel sick to my stomach.

" Mackenzie!" a shrill voice calls, breaking into my somewhat morbid and dark thoughts and I shoot to my feet racing down the stairs, recognizing the panicked voice of Cynthia anywhere.

" What? What happened?" I ask, panting slightly when I see that it isn't just me and her occupying the sunny kitchen of her parents home.

" Sorry. Nothing, we just. I just got some news," Cynthia says pointing to the kitchen table where the rest of the Raymond family is gathered. Mary, Ellis, Caleb, Christian, and Blake all sit around the kitchen table sipping coffee and picking over the remains of morning breakfast that I didn't even know had been served.

" Okay, one don't ever scare me like that again. And two. Why did no one tell me that breakfast was ready?" I ask easily sitting on Caleb's lap, stealing the piece of bacon he had lifted half way to his lips.

" Sorry. And we did call you. You probably couldn't hear us over your music," Cynthia's Dad Ellis says and I chuckle lightly, only because he seems to know me so well.

" Okay, that is so beside the point, what has Cynthia screaming the roof down?" I ask perplexed as the room grows suddenly and eerily quiet.

" Nana Rosemary," Cynthia starts and I sigh sympathetically, ready to push myself from Caleb's lap to comfort my friend, " Don't you sigh at me, and before you come over to comfort and make me feel better, hear me out."

" That's right, your stuck here for now honey," Caleb teases, wrapping strong arms around my waist holding me tight. If a stranger were to happen upon the scene they would think Caleb and I were a couple, but they couldn't be further from the truth. It isn't that Caleb isn't gorgeous, he is. Cynthia's entire family is. But he's as much to a brother to me as my own brother Ryan, so the thought of us being a couple is just way too creepy to think about.

" Nana Rosemary's Will was read last night, after everyone left," Cynthia says, sitting across from me, her eyes swimming for only a moment before she managed to swallow it, " She left me the bakery. And her house."

" She left you Heaven Scent, and Hanson House?" I ask momentarily taken aback by the new developments. Though it doesn't really surprise me much, seeing as how Cynthia has a mind for business and a fresh degree to back it up.

" Yes," she says her voice growing serious, " And I've been thinking."

" Uh oh, that's serious Cynthia;s voice," I say sitting back against Caleb's chest.

" Just hear me out. I went to school for business. I graduated and everything," she says trailing off when I laugh at her.

" I know that Cynthia, I was there remember?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at her before moving my head quickly when she tosses a piece of toast at my head, " All right. I'll shut up."

" Thank you," She says immediately going back to what she was saying, " I know I can run the place, but I need someone who can actually cook. Someone who I don't know, managed to be one of the only people that Nana Rosemary allowed into the sanctuary that was her kitchen," she says her voice sweet and it takes a second for the words to register.

" Cyn," I say, closing my eyes.

" Just listen. I know I could probably interview some people, try to find someone to head up the kitchen for Nana Rosemary, but that could take months. And besides I don't want someone to replace her, I want someone who will be willing to stay true to what she wanted coming out of her ovens. I would love to be that person Kenzie, but seeing as I somehow cant seem to boil a pot of water without some disaster happening I cant be. And listen, you wouldn't have to worry about finding a place to stay. Hanson House is more than big enough for the two of us, and since the mortgage was paid off years ago, you would only have to help chip in with utilities and food and what not. I know I am asking a lot here Kenzie, but…" I hold a hand up to her, shaking my head at her telling her silently to be quiet.

" If you don't stop rambling how else am I supposed to call my family to tell them I'm staying?" I ask after a dramatic pause, the look on Cynthia's face exactly what I was waiting for. She smiles brightly, tears rolling out of beautiful hazel eyes as she races around the table, throwing herself towards me, sending Caleb, myself, and her to the floor as laughter resounds around us.

* * *

**Spencer's POV**

**21 June 2010**

I drop myself into the chair at my desk, pinching the bridge of my nose between long fingers. Another case closed. Another person put away. And I know I should be happy, but the mountain of case files sitting before tells me that happiness just isn't quiet reachable as of yet. And it doesn't help the situation one bit that the coffee pot lays bare.

" Hey Kid," Derek's voice comes from behind me and I turn slowly to see his go bag hitched over his shoulder, " You should call it a night. You've been up for almost three days straight you need some sleep. Garcia and I are going to have a movie night, wanna come?"

" Nah, you guys go ahead, I just want to take a look at a few things then I'm going home to sleep," I say waving him off with a crooked smile. It's not that I try to keep myself socially separated from my team. It's just second nature. I Suppose it comes with the territory. Not many people graduated high school at twelve years old and was tormented for it.

" You sure?" he presses and just as I am about to relent, Penelope somehow makes an appearance saving me from giving in.

" You heard Boy Wonder," Penelope says all but bouncing to Derek's side, her black and white checkered dress offset by an outrageously bright green bag, " Looks like its just you and me Hot Stuff."

" All right, night Kid," Derek says amicably tossing an arm over Penelope's shoulder turning towards the doors.

" Night guys," I call back shaking my head as I turn back to my desk. Those two have always confused me. Their open flirtations have left everyone wondering if perhaps there was something going on behind the scenes that nobody knew about. And if there wasn't then I would be surprised.

I sigh as I stare at the manila folders stack haphazardly over my desk and I decide that I need to organize them before I can start working on anything but the newspaper on top catches my attention.

The front page bares the face of someone I recognize and I scan the article.

' _Beloved owner of Heaven Scent Bakery in Fredericksburg, Rosemary Raymond, age seventy two, passed away peacefully, June fourteenth in her sleep. She is survived by six children, fourteen grandchildren, and 3 great grandchildren.' _

The paper flutters from my fingers as I sit back in my chair. I knew that I recognized her from somewhere. The kind old woman from my favorite bakery who always offered a nice word and made some of the best coffee and blueberry muffins I have ever had. I drop my head slowly to my hands trying to reign in the emotions I find suddenly warring inside of me.

Seems so silly to be affected this way. I see some of the most horrific things that a person can do to another on an almost daily basis. So why does the passing of an old bakery owner seem to shake me so deeply?


End file.
